oh, to hell with you
by Scream to the Stars
Summary: a different take on William and his Curse issues. He's like most boys. idiot.


"Tessa, you can't tell me that, when I kiss you, you don't feel anything. That, when I touch you, your skin does not alight with fire, searing your veins. Tessa, please, you made the wrong choice. I love you, please," he was pleading with her, dark eyes desperate for her to refute Jem's claim and name him her one and only.

"I gave up on you, Will," she whispered, terrified that, if she spoke louder, her voice would break just like her heart. "You hurt me, and I didn't know what else to do. I longed for you, for so long, but you needn't have hurt me as you did. I did not need to pine over you when Jem was willing to love and I was willing to love back.

"You gave up?" of course, he would only focus on one thing. "When did you give up on me?"

"When you crushed my heart on the rooftop, acting as though I were a harlot, and crushing my hopes and dreams none too gently when you recounted warlocks are barren!" she snapped, knowing it was the great taboo, to talk about that day on the roof. "When you further confused my feelings by being kind one moment and being a right little priss the next. When you pushed me away again and again, befuddling my feelings and giving me such great confusion-" she had to stop upon realizing her voice had risen, dropping it to a quieter, harsher tone, "When you kissed me tenderly and yet could not even meet my gaze later."

"And so you went to Jem? My brother?"

"He was less confusing. My heart did not feel any coldness, any walls that I would have to hurtle. Instead, I fell for him, fell slow and gentle, right into his arms. It was sweet and wonderful, and not at all wretched or upsetting, like I found from you, Will. Jem was my choice because he is far too kind and gentle to even begin to wonder of hurting me, and I make him so happy it sends me spinning myself. Would you not wish that for your blood brother? Should you not think of his happiness, even if he claimed a lady who, until quite recently, you could only lash out at because your feelings, you felt them too dangerous?" she felt her face grow warm from the angry assertion she was so pronouncedly giving him.

"I just...I never thought—"

"Did you ever actually think, Will Herondale?" she wanted to yell, but kept her voice an even, angry whisper. "Did you never believe James was actually able to love and want to be loved? He doesn't care about his sickness, Will. He simply wants to be happy. He would be happy with just you as his blood brother, yet you sat there and continued to be that angry cynical man," he just sat there and allowed her anger to wash over him. He needed this, he knew he did. It was time to stop lashing out, to take this talking to.

"If only I had...spoken to him...about such things..." he whispered.

"Do you think it would have changed things, to stop him from loving me? It would have simply made my own choice more confusing and terrible and—oh, Will, why couldn't you have just told me earlier? I would not be in this mess," she ended up whispering the last part, but never let him hear her. Her heart was breaking, and she could not stand allowing him the knowledge it was tearing apart within her own chest.

"Tessa, I realized I should have come earlier, I'm sorry," he whispered himself, laying a gentle hand on her arm. She refused to look at him, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She would go look for Jem after this, for comfort, there was just too much in her mind, tearing her apart. Will himself was barely reigning in the anger himself. Anger at himself, Jem, Tessa, although he knew it wasn't her, or his fault. It was only his, for waiting so long, for pretending there wasn't anything there.

And when she wouldn't look at him, something within him snapped and he left the room, scrabbling at the bolt on the door. He left in a huff, leaving Tessa, only to hear a shriek minutes later, and a terrified Sophie rushing past him. He did the only thing he could then; he traced his steps to Jem's room, where wonderful, beautiful, terrible music was floating.

….nahh...

"James?" Tessa called, terrified as she poked her head in the door. Jem turned towards her, silver eyes glowing luminously in the witchlight, his nimble fingers already reaching for her hand. She shut the door and took his warm hand gratefully, sliding into the space on his bed. Until she began crying and flung herself at him, burrowing in his chest, wrapping her arms only too tightly around his middle.

"Tess?" Jem wrapped his arms slowly around her, unsure of why she was crying. Whether she was hurt or terrified, or both. "Did you have a nightmare, Tess?" he stroked her hair and whispered a few calming words in her ear. She would not answer. Letting out the quietest of breaths, he leaned back into his pillows and brought her with him, stroking her back until she would stop crying.

"What is wrong, my Tess?" he asked a while later, after her sobs had diminished to mere hiccups. Her head was now pressed to his neck, her dreary eyes closed as she breathed in his scent. He brushed his fingertips lightly along her waist.

"Just...Nate, I suppose. The Magister," she lied easily, knowing she could not mention Will. It was terrible, keeping this secret that was threatening to rend her apart. Jem only nodded, turning on his side in order to pull her closer. She allowed herself to be tangled up in him, his mixture of scents, and heard his soft, consoling whisper.

"Do not fret, my dear Tess. I will never let Mortmain take you from my grasp. I will never let him come and steal you away from me. Where you go, I will follow, a threat as well as a promise. I need you to live, my Tess. You are the very air I breathe and water I drink. For you to be taken away from me, I would surely die sooner than I should. Here, in my arms, you are safe," he wrapped his slender arms around her small frame, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His words fell like music on her ears.

"I never fret with you about," she whispered sleepily.

"That is good," he said lowly, in her ear. She allowed herself to relax within his grasp. Here, there was no confusing Will ready to lead her down another pathway of lies. Here there wasn't a Magister, looking to use her for his own dark needs. Here lay everything she could ever want; a truthful love and an easy man to spend her life with.

"My Tess, you need your sleep. You've been weeping long enough. Should I suggest you take your leave to your room?" he asked, pulling back to stroke her fine cheekbone.

"Please, James, let me spend the night here, in your arms, lest you feel you could not stand me near," she only wanted to be held like this forever, safe and warm and close to him. So close she could feel his warm breath stir the ends of her hair atop her head. She only wished this night could never end for them.

"Who am I to reprimand what my betrothed wishes?" he asked quietly, a subtle hint of a smile hidden in his voice, subtly only for her. One of his hands found hers and he laced his fingers through hers, laying their clasped hands between their chests. "You and I were made for each other, Tessa," he spoke lowly, allowing her to hear the vulnerability and complete love for her in his voice. "Whenever ou need me, I will be here, forevermore." He never mentioned how his heartbeats were numbered, how he was afraid the next breath would be his last.

There was only her, and that was more than enough for him, the dying man.

"James?" she started, sleepiness invading her voice so perfectly, it was thick when she murmured his name.

"Yes?" he whispered, wishing to lull her to sleep with his sweet words.

"Can this night simply cease to end?"

"No, yet there can be more just like this," he whispered, smiling when it seemed to do the trick. She murmured something sweet sounding he couldn't catch and pressed closer to his warmth, her head seated comfortable on his shoulder, her breathing already even. He felt a contentedness spread through him as he settled beside her, feeling her little clockwork angel ticking away steadily as it pressed against his chest, next to their clasped hands.

"You and I, Theresa, forever," he whispered, eyes already closed.


End file.
